Aged to Perfection
by Mishaela
Summary: Warnings: Shounen-ai, Language, Yohji's POV, Ran's POV. Two former assasins reflect on how things have changed in the last fifteen years... and on what they should have changed. 2/2 My last FF.Net posting!
1. Yohji's POV

Aged to Perfection I 

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Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never have, never will. This fic involves shounen-ai. Those who are not open-minded should definitely not read this. 

Pairing: Yohji + Aya  
Warnings: Shounen-ai, Language, Yohji's POV 

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Aged to Perfection I   
  
Isn't it strange how things work out?   
  
I've actually managed to live to the day where I've got gray hairs. How the fuck did that happen? Wasn't it only yesterday that all four of us worked in the flower shop? Wasn't it only such a short time ago that Omi was still in high school? God, how time flies.   
  
I always wanted a house in the mountains. I love the view from here and I don't mind the weather. I never expected the volatile part of my life to want to share it with me. He's been the only thing that hasn't been consistent for the last fifteen years.   
  
Ran Fujimiya.   
  
He likes to stand by the front bay window, sipping coffee. He's always looking outside, like he's waiting for something. I wonder if he relives the past while he's there. Does he stand at that window, waiting for his sister?   
  
We came to an understanding all those years ago. Sure, it had been something decided while we were both drunk and suffering blood loss, but it had been a vow of sorts. If we somehow survived our time in Weiss, if later in life we had no one else, we would stay together. Keep each other company.   
  
Yohji Kudou and Ran Fujimiya. What a fucked up pair of room mates.   
  
He's still beautiful. His hair's still that deep, scarlet color, silky soft to the touch - but there's some peppered silver at his temples. His eyes have softened a bit over the years, but they still retain that edge that makes young punks think twice about fucking with him. He never stopped keeping in shape, either, so he's still got his toned build.   
  
I'll never get tired of looking at him.   
  
The storm that had kept me snowbound this morning abated and, with it, he'd come breezing in. Like usual. Ran comes and goes as he pleases. I don't usually get any warning when he's ready to go, so I had to learn his body language. People used to bitch at me for disappearing all the time, but I'll never do that to him.   
  
I like having him around. I don't feel like I'm getting old when he's here.   
  
This all started about ten years ago, when his sister got married. I think they got into a fight or something about her new husband. Shortly after that, he showed up on my doorstep, surprising the hell out of me, and deposited his bags in the second bedroom. He never said a word about it, but that night, Aya called me and filled me in on the missing details.   
  
She asked me to not let her big brother get too lonely. Not a whole hell of a lot I can do about that. Thanks for the tall order, there, Aya-chan. Thanks a bunch.   
  
I join him at the window, lighting up a smoke and gazing out across the snowy front porch. The wind's picked up again and it's blowing loose powder here and there. Beautiful, really. I wish I had my sketchbook and pencils here. Had to take up something to keep my hands busy…   
  
He breaks the silence. "Yohji, do you have any regrets?"   
  
I blink. Do I have any regrets? Yeah, a few. One in particular stands out, though. One thing that might have changed all of this now into something more pleasant than a couple of older men trying their best to give each other companionship. Something that might have had more meaning today.   
  
"Yeah," I whisper back. "Just one, though. Maybe it was the most important of all."   
  
He nods, but doesn't say anything more. I stare down at my cigarette, thinking. Would it be so bad? We're older now… Neither of us has anybody else in our lives. Should I show him what I've been hiding all those years? Would he reject me now?   
  
I shrug. It doesn't matter. Now, more than ever, I have to let him know what it was I wish I could change. I take another drag from the smoke and shift, moving behind him. Without another second of hesitation, I wrap my arms around him and pull him back against me.   
  
What surprises me is… he doesn't push me off. Ran's head lays back, against my shoulder, and his eyes close. All those lines on his forehead smooth out, almost disappearing. For the first time in over fifteen years, he looks like he's at peace. I want to share that. My cheek presses against the side of his head and I let my own eyes flutter closed.   
  
His hands come up to mine, our fingers interlacing. It feels more 'right' than I'd ever imagined. I hear a contented sigh and wonder which one of us let it go. I find myself not caring. This is too perfect.   
  
Perhaps this was the right time to show him. I don't think he would have welcomed my advances in the past. Had I been him, I wouldn't have either. Back when we were still young, they would have come laced with sex and no promises. Over the years, I've found that sex isn't always the answer. During that time, I started to really relish the moments that we had together, quiet and peaceful each and every one.   
  
Ran turns in my arms and his own come up around my neck. His eyes are lavender pools of nothing but contentment and trust and, dare I say, love. For the first time in both our lives, he smiles at me. It's so beautiful to see, I think my heart's going to explode.   
  
Not good, Kudou, having a heart attack when the final piece in your life falls into place.   
  
One of his slender hands moves up, into my dark locks of hair, and caresses the back of my neck. He uses it to pull my face closer to his, bringing our lips together for the first time. I kiss him; tenderly, leisurely, passionately, and oh so contentedly. Even this, done at a point when I'd almost forgotten what the feel of someone in my arms was like, even this feels like the most perfect thing in the world.   
  
When it breaks, he pulls back enough that our eyes can meet. He smiles again, his eyes crinkling at the corners from it, the effect heightening the fact that he's more beautiful now than in his youth. It lifts about ten years from my soul.   
  
"Yohji," he breaths out softly. "Thank you… for keeping the promise."   
  
I smile softly and nod my head. "Welcome home, Ran." That drunken promise had made all the difference and, now, when we're starting to turn gray, it's become like wine. Perfect body, perfect heart, perfect soul.   
  
All of it. Him. Me. The promise.   
  
… All aged to perfection. 

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Mishaela: This is a two parter. It's also the last thing I will ever post to FF.Net so long as the NC-17 rating remains missing from the menu. I'm sorry, but I can not abide their decision. My soul and mind can not be free if they are limited to what people construe as 'morally right'. 


	2. Ran's POV

Aged to Perfection II 

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Disclaimer: Same as in previous... 

Pairing: Yohji + Aya  
Warnings: Shounen-ai, Language, Ran's POV 

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He never says a word about it. I come in, stay for a few months, and then disappear again. He never asks where I've been or what I was doing. To some, that would come across as uncaring, but not to me.   
  
To me it shows trust.   
  
He knows I'll come back. He knows I will keep coming back. I can't stay away from him. He's still so beautiful and, after all these years, so full of life. He's changed so much since our days back in Weiss.   
  
His brown hair isn't all brown anymore. In the past, he would have dyed it, but not now. Yohji's gotten used to the idea of getting older, I think, and he doesn't worry about his own vanity as much. Little streaks of silver shoot through the shining mass of waves. They glitter in the right light. It makes me smile, not that he's ever seen it.   
  
I've taken to standing by the window, looking outside. He has good taste. The view here is beautiful. I find myself daydreaming there a lot. I imagine that he and I aren't just friends. I imagine that we share more than just living space. I dream that he'll hold me and comfort me and make the past we shared disappear.   
  
Sometimes, he stands with me. Both of us stay quiet, never saying a word. Like now. I came back in this morning, as soon as the winter storm had given me a chance, just so that I could spend the rest of the day basking in his warm presence.   
  
One night, back when we were still killers, we made a promise. We both were drunk, the alcohol being the only thing we had to kill the pain of our injuries, and we were both wounded from a mission. I remember that night clearly, despite the numbing qualities of the strong liquor.   
  
"Aya," he'd started, his voice slurred. "What are ya gonna do when this is over?"   
  
"Dunno," I'd answered. "Mebbe I'll travel."   
  
Yohji had snorted at that. "I don' wanna travel. Mebbe I'll jus' get a nice place in the mountains. I've always wanted something like that… peace and quiet…"   
  
"Sounds good," I'd said. I looked at him, my eyes nearly crossing. "Mebbe I'll come live with you then."   
  
He'd laughed outright. "Oh, wouldn't that be good… You an' me, living together as old guys…" Yohji had stopped laughing then, getting so serious, I'd thought he'd sobered up. "Sure… if we don't have anyone else… why not?"   
  
I didn't even think about my response before giving it. "Fine. When we start gettin' old, we'll keep each other company."   
  
His chuckle was deep, rumbling. "I'll hold you to that, Aya."   
  
A promise kept… and I would have given him so much more if he'd asked. I never let on. How could I? He wasn't interested in keeping a steady relationship back then. I didn't ever fault him for his life after that.   
  
I knew, somehow in the deepest recesses of my heart, that we would end up like this.   
  
It's times like this, though, that I wish I'd said something. I regret that I never told him how much I cared about him. How much I wanted to be held by him. Nothing more than just having his long arms wrapped around me and keeping me warm against my own inner demons.   
  
I break the silence. "Yohji, do you have any regrets?"   
  
He doesn't say anything for a few minutes. I guess he's doing what I've been doing every time I stand here. Thinking it over. From the corner of my eye, I see him open his mouth to speak.   
  
"Yeah," he whispers back. "Just one, though. Maybe it was the most important of all."   
  
That puzzles me. I close my eyes and think about it. What could Yohji have regretted that would be so… important to him? My train of thought is derailed as he moves so he's standing behind me. I'm even more startled by his arms coming around me, holding me, bringing our bodies close together. I lean back, my head resting on his shoulder, and close my eyes again. This is… nice.   
  
I bring my hands up and lace our fingers together. This is so… comfortable. I could stand like this all night if he'd let me. Someone sighs, and I'm not sure who. I find myself not caring. This is perfect. A perfect moment of time that no one else will ever see or intrude on.   
  
I turn around, needing to see the look on his face. It's more peaceful than ever. I like that. His green eyes are bright and warm and I can see my reflection in them. So many emotions that he's never really hidden are right there, just below the surface. Longing, love, trust, happiness… it's like he's been wishing he could do this for years.   
  
He makes me feel so much younger with the look in his eyes.   
  
"Yohji," I breath out softly. "Thank you… for keeping the promise." I kick myself because what I really wanted to say, I can't yet.   
  
He smiles and nods his head. "Welcome home, Ran." That drunken promise had made all the difference and, now, when we're starting to turn gray, it's become like wine. Perfect body, perfect heart, perfect soul.   
  
All of it. Him. Me. The promise.   
  
… All aged to perfection. 

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Mishaela: This is the end. I'm sorry to all those who enjoyed reading my fics. If you wish to keep in contact with me, I can be reached a variety of ways. E-mail at mishaelamk@yahoo.com, AIM: Mishaela, YM: mishaelamk, and ICQ: 117075006. I also have a mailing list... http://groups.yahoo.com/group/MYPML/ 

I'll return if the NC-17 ban lifts. I'm sorry, but most of my work is NC-17 and this is a harsh blow for me. I love all of my faithful readers and I hope that you join the ML. I don't want to deny any of you my writing. It means a lot to me that you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it for you. 

Thanks for everything. I hope to hear from all of you soon! 


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